Mirrors
by Lizzleness
Summary: Short introspections from various character's points of view while they look at themselves. I have no idea how often I'll update, but I'll try. Rated T because I'm paranoid... Updated: Rosalie
1. I am Jasper Whitlock

**I am Jasper Whitlock**

**Disclaimer: *sarcasm* I am indeed making large sums of money off this. Definitely.*/sarcasm* Oh wait, you wanted me to be serious? Never mind then...  
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**A/N: **Hi! This is my first fan fiction. I would love any feedback that people can give. Thanks!

I look in the mirror. My eyes are a deep crimson. They reflect the monster; they reflect me. I am Jasper Whitlock and I am weak. Edward listens to my thoughts and says, "You are Jasper _Cullen_." But I tune him out, because he is wrong. Jasper Cullen has topaz eyes. He does not give in. He is strong.

Jasper Whitlock is the face in the mirror. Jasper Whitlock haunts me. I have to get away from his face, but I can't. I stare and stare like humans stare at a car crash. That's what I am, a crash. A collision of good and evil. Cullen and Whitlock. Unfortunately, the evil far outweighs the good. Today Jasper Whitlock won. Today innocents were murdered. I try to beat Jasper Whitlock everyday; I try to be someone worthy of the trust the Cullens give me. Today I failed. Tomorrow I will win. Because I must. Because I want to be Jasper Cullen.


	2. Different

**Disclaimer for all time (because I'm lazy like that): If Twilight was mine it would be about me and Jasper, not Edward and Bella. Trust me; you get a much better story with Stephenie writing. =-)**

Brown eyes stare back at me out of a pale face. They do not look happy. Actually, they look positively downtrodden. Today was my first day of high school, and I am not looking forward to the next eternity.

I'm already a freak among freaks. There is no one else like me. Everyone who visited us when I was younger said that. It's true. There are other human-vampire hybrids, but none of them are imprintees. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. It seems like my life was all laid out for me before I was born.

Since I'd stop growing when I appeared to be seventeen, I have to go to school. School with my parents, my aunts, my uncles, and my imprinter. I love my family; I know how much they risked for me when I was younger, but I need to figure out who I am.

Me, without any weird growth spurts or mysticism. Just me, Renesmee. I wonder if Mom and Dad would let me get a place by myself. A place where I could learn about myself without any interference. Maybe, just maybe, I could come to accept my oddness, my singularly. But, I'd have to do it somewhere where I could think and feel without anyone listening in. Maybe New York City. It's always been a place to blend it. I've heard that there are a lot of weird things there. Maybe not as weird as me. But, I want to see the world by myself. I am going to see the world someday soon.

Brown eyes stare back at me out of a pale face. Now they have some hope. Maybe, just maybe, there's a place for freaks and outsiders. Even if that place means being alone in the middle of a city, I think it'd be worth it.


	3. A Not So Happy Thanksgiving

**Thanks for the reviews and Favs, they really mean a lot. If anyone has any ideas for other characters/situations they really want to see, PM me. This happens before Rosalie finds Emmett.**

I sit at my vanity, brushing my hair. It is beautiful, just like the rest of me. It doesn't really need brushing, but it calms me. It's Thanksgiving, and I need calming.

At my house Thanksgiving was always a big deal. Turkey, cranberry sauce, so many delicacies that no one else had. We always had a crowd of people over, all upper-class. There would be dancing and partying. But, that's all gone now. The Cullens give thanks, but there's no feast, no celebration, no nothing.

It's hardest for me at the holidays. There aren't any real vampire holidays, and there's no reason to celebrate the human ones. I squeeze the brush harder, and it snaps. I glare at it like this whole situation is its fault. Maybe it is. I shake myself internally, thinking that it probably isn't the hairbrush's fault. I let the pieces fall to the ground and get up.

It's my fault. If I hadn't been beautiful _he _would never have wanted me. I could have lived, loved, and died. But I won't. I paste a grin on my face, and go out to face the Cullens. I know Esme and Carlisle are worried about me, and I don't want them thinking too much on it. Because I have a plan. A plan to repay the men who took everything from me. And it's so much easier to ask forgiveness than permission.


End file.
